


can't keep my (hands to myself)

by Rivendell101



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 01:26:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17457965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivendell101/pseuds/Rivendell101
Summary: Prompt: You’re afraid you’ll lose me in big crowds so you hold my hand but now you hold my hand around like 5 people and I’m getting suspicious.AKA: five times Sweet Pea holds your hand and the one time you hold his first.





	can't keep my (hands to myself)

**1.**

The first time it happens you don’t think anything of it.

It’s the Serpents’ first day at Riverdale High and everything is tense, more so than usual. Fangs is abnormally jumpy and Sweet Pea is angrier than normal, restless and ready to pick a fight with anyone who so much as breathes in his direction, much to your chagrin. And things only get worse as the day goes on.

The hallways of Riverdale High are already crowded by the time the Serpents get there, swelling with a mixture of hostility and restless energy at the arrival of the Southside students. More than one fight breaks out before classes even begin, the Bulldogs taunting and the Serpents quick to strike back. Sweet Pea is the worst of them, easy to rile up and loyal to a fault. He’s right there, anytime someone even looks at one of the Serpents the wrong way, and you would roll your eyes if you weren’t mildly overwhelmed by the aggressive stares from the Northside students.

It’s worse than Southside High, if you’re being honest, because while Serpents and Ghoulies were always at each others’ throats there was always a kind of understanding between the groups. The Ghoulies had a space and the Serpents had there’s and most of the time everyone respected that. It would only cause bigger problems if people didn’t.

But the Serpents don’t have a place at Riverdale High, not yet, and that becomes apparent very early on between the hostile looks and whispered comments too loud to be unintentional. Everyone is a little on edge because of it, and that causes everyone to start forming smaller groups in some strange kind of buddy system.

Because your schedules are nearly identical, you end up with Sweet Pea. It should be fine. The two of you have been friends for a while now, you get along perfectly well, and while Sweet Pea is a hothead, he always means well.

And it wouldn’t be a problem except Sweet Pea somehow gets it in his head that he’s going to lose you in the crowded hallways. Sweet Pea is tall, at least a foot taller than you, and because of this, you spend the short walk to your first period English class with him glancing over his shoulder every five seconds to make sure you’re still there. It causes several near accidents and a brief altercation with some football jock before you manage to pull him away.

It continues like that for most of the day, you trailing slightly behind him and Sweet Pea constantly checking to make sure you hadn’t suddenly disappeared on him. The only difference is that by then people have learned to move around him.

It’s not until the two of you are headed for your history class in the afternoon that Sweet Pea becomes fed up with this arraignment. He huffs and reaches back to grab you by the hand, yanking you up against his side. “Keep up, Short Stuff. We don’t have all day.” While he sounds annoyed, you know him well enough to hear the teasing edge to his words.

You roll your eyes. “We can’t all be _giraffes_ , Sweet Pea,” you snap back. You may be short, but that doesn’t make you incapable of taking care of yourself.

“Am I going to have to buy one of those child leashes for you?” He laces your fingers together, cocking his head to the side as he glances down at you, quirking a brow.

“Only if you want to lose your hand.”

Sweet Pea grins, fingers squeezing around yours. “Come on, Feisty.”

* * *

      **2.**

The second time it happens, you still don’t think anything of it.

The Wyrm is as crowded as ever on a Friday night, packed to capacity with Serpents both young and old. The music is loud and some of the younger Serpents are already way beyond tipsy, much to your amusement. Usually, you’d be working the bar tonight with Toni, but somehow you both scored the night off, Hog Eye being _unusually_ generous.

More likely is that Fangs and Sweet Pea bribed him, but if they did they haven’t said a word about it. Regardless, you plan to enjoy the night off. Everyone has been stressed in the weeks since the schools merged, and things have become more and more tense on the Southside, so it’s nice to see everyone finally relaxing for once.

You peer around the packed room, squinting to see a flash of bubble-gum pink against all the leather and dark hair, but the room is too dark to see much of anything at all. Huffing, you press up on your toes, looking instead for Sweet Pea’s towering frame, knowing that he’s infinitely easier to find than Toni.

At least _hypothetically_ he should be. Your frown only deepens when you don’t see your mountain of a friend anywhere in the room, a frustrated groan building in your throat. It really shouldn’t be this difficult to spot Sweet Pea. He’s over six feet and is one of the tallest Serpents in the room. He shouldn’t be _able_ to hide like this.

“Boo,” a low voice whispers in your ear, a pair of hands grabbing you by the shoulders. You yelp, about to swing at whoever’s grabbed you but a familiar, rough baritone chuckle reaches your ears first, his laughter vibrating through you both, and you roll your eyes in annoyance. Somehow, he always manages to find you first.

Sweet Pea squeezes your shoulders, big hands running down your arms to your elbows, palms warm against your bare skin. His touch is light and it tickles and if you lean into him it’s only because of the two shots you’ve already taken tonight.

You consider punching him anyway for scaring you, but the smile on his face when you turn around whisks the thought away.

He peers down at you, eyes crinkled at the corners from how wide his grin is, a lightness to his features that you don’t often get to see anymore. He looks absolutely elated, comfortable in his skin, and there’s no trace of the deep-set anger in his eyes that just won’t seem to wash away most days. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him this open and happy. The last few weeks have been difficult for everyone, but especially for Sweet Pea.

He’s always been protective of the Serpents, of his _family_ , and he’s done everything to put a target on his own back at Riverdale High in order to keep it off everyone else. You aren’t sure if he’s brave or reckless because of it, but you’ve always thought he was a little bit of both.

You think that that smile on his face might be the epitome of joy and chalk it up to the alcohol.

“Asshole,” you call him, rolling your eyes as his hands drop from your arms, “don’t scare me like that!”

His grin only widens at your irritated expression, expression impish, and a smile tugs at your own lips before you can stop it. “Come on.” His reaches for you easily, fingers tangling with yours as he gives you a little tug in the opposite direction you were previously looking. “Toni and Fangs are waiting.”

* * *

**3.**

The third time it _really_ happens, you don’t notice. But Toni Does.

You’re used to Sweet Pea grabbing your hand and pulling you along behind him at this point. It’s just become second nature. Anytime you’re in a crowd, Sweet Pea will lace his fingers through yours, keeping you close to his side so you don’t get swept away. At Riverdale High. At the Whyte Wyrm. Down at the Quarry with the other Serpents milling around you. It’s nothing unusual at this point. It’s just how the two of you are.

So really, you just don’t notice when his fingers slip through yours when you’re at the Drive-In with Toni and Fangs.

The Drive-In is playing some eighties-night marathon that Fangs had begged you all to watch with him, something you were suckered into with his puppy-dog eyes. Toni fell for the eyes too, and either Sweet Pea was bribed or just decided he didn’t want to be alone on a Saturday night. Regardless, somehow you all ended up curled up in the bed of his pickup with a multitude of blankets and pillows for everyone to use.

When he reaches down and hoists you onto the truck with one hand, he doesn’t let go.

And that’s the end of it. Your hands should slip away from each other, but they don’t. And you don’t notice. You end up squeezed between Toni and Sweet Pea with your laced fingers resting on your lap, his thumb sweeping across the back of your hand. You lean into his side a little more than usual, the early March air still chilly, and his grip around you tightens just a fraction.

They stay linked like that until the credits of the first film begin to roll and Fangs gets restless, badgering Sweet Pea until the other boy agrees to go on a quick snack run with him. Sweet Pea rolls his eyes and makes a snarky remark about Fangs eating his candy too quickly, and you and Toni both snicker, knowing how Sweet Pea has just as big of a sweet tooth as Fangs.

His hands slips from yours and your fingers go cold.

Toni smirks as soon as the boys disappear from sight, one brow quirked at you expectantly, expression mischievous. “So,” she drawls, playing with a piece of popcorn and trying to appear casual, “what’s going on between you and Sweet Pea?”

Rolling your eyes, you level her with a pointed look, but her smile only widens. “As I’ve told you, there’s nothing going on between me and Sweet Pea.” It’s a conversation you’ve had with her a million times before. No matter how much you deny that there’s anything between you and Sweet Pea, Toni just won’t seem to believe it.

Her smirk widens like she’s won. “Then why _exactly_ were you two holding hands just now?”

Automatically, you go to respond, brows furrowing because you know _exactly_ why Sweet Pea would hold your hand. Then you stop. Because you weren’t in a crowd of people this time. It was just Fangs and Toni and there was no reason for him to be keeping you close like that. There’s no way he could have lost you in a crowd.

You purse your lips, trying not to blush, and Toni snickers. The boys come back before you can say anything else and Sweet Pea settles down beside you once more, a bag of gummy worms in one hand. His side is pressed flush against yours and the heat of his body is something you’re suddenly all too aware of.

The next movie starts to play and Sweet Pea’s hand curls around yours.

* * *

    **4.**

After that, you don’t stop noticing it.

Sweet Pea holds your hand more than you initially realized. It’s no longer _just_ at school in between classes when the hallways are packed with students or _just_ at the Wyrm on a crowded Friday night. No, somehow it’s extended to when he walks you home after your shift at the bar and movie nights on Fangs’ couch and under the booth while you’re at Pop’s with friends, all without you even realizing it.

It’s strange, how perfectly his hand fits into yours, how without realizing it you’ve begun to relax into his touch completely, unaware that you were searching for it until his hand was completely enveloping yours.

Toni and Fangs have both noticed it at this point, but neither have said anything since that night at the Drive-In and you aren’t sure quite what to make of that. They keep giving you these sly looks each time they catch you and Sweet Pea holding hands, and each time your face flushes, like you’re getting caught doing something wrong.

It’s gotten to the point where the two of you hold hands more often than not, and at this point you’re almost painfully aware of that fact. Sweet Pea will just grab your hand at times and it’s like you can’t breathe, or his thumb will brush against your thigh as you hold your clasped hands in your lap and it’ll leave a burning trail of heat along your skin, a shiver running down your spine. Every little touch makes you ache for something that you aren’t sure you want to put a name to.

But Sweet Pea doesn’t talk about it and neither do you and Toni and Fangs keep on grinning like they know something you don’t.

You’re inclined to think that maybe they do.

Sweet Pea sighs. “Why are we here so early again?” he complains, glancing down at you, an annoyed expression on his face. Despite his protests, his grip only tightens around your hand as he allows you to tug him through the school towards the auditorium, the musical bound to start in less than twenty minutes. He frowns at a group of parents who send the two of you disapproving looks. “Actually, why are we here at all?” he rephrases, keeping close to your side as the two of you step in line.

“To support Toni and Fangs,” you remind him breezily, trying not to smile. Despite his griping, Sweet Pea is nothing but talk. He can complain all he wants, but you both know he would be here with or without you. Sweet Pea cares about Toni and Fangs way too much to miss out on something so important to them.

He groans low in the back of his throat, way too close to your ear, and you try not to shiver. “I don’t like musicals.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh come on, Sweets.” You tug at his hand, absentmindedly playing with the rings on his fingers, ones you’ve become well-acquainted with since the two of you started doing whatever _this_ is. _Please, for me?_ is almost what you say next, but you swallow it back, not willing to go there. “It’ll be fun,” you say instead.

For a moment he simply stares down at you as you pause just outside of the theater, dark eyes locking with yours as you twist one of the rings around his finger, trying to ignore the way he inhales sharply at the small action.

His shoulders slacken and he shakes his head, grinning as you pull him into the dark auditorium.

* * *

**5.**

Things build and build until they don’t.

Midge Klump dies and Fangs is accused of murder and then Fangs is shot and all of Riverdale goes to hell. It all happens so quickly and yet not fast enough, everything in excruciating detail, yet you’re powerless to stop it. Everything is chaos. People are screaming. A gunshot rings in your ears. You’re lost in the shuffle of bodies swarming the streets.

An unfamiliar ache of fear erupts in your chest when you realize you’re alone. Your heart lurches, throat constricting in panic, and with wild eyes you look around the streets, hoping to catch a glimpse of another Serpent, a familiar face.

A familiar voice shouts your name and you whip around, the panic uncoiling in your chest as you see him. “Sweets,” you breathe back.

His wild gaze meets yours, eyes searching your own for something you’re not quite sure of, his hands hovering over your shoulders, clenching and unclenching like he doesn’t know where to touch you. Finally, he seems to find what he’s looking for. His arms snake around your frame, pulling you tight to his chest.

You grip him back just as tightly, hands fisting in his leather jacket as he buries his face against your hair. “I’ve got you, Baby,” he murmurs, voice almost swallowed by the screaming all around you. “I’ve got you.”

Somehow you end up back at the Wyrm in one of the bathrooms. You’re on the counter with Sweet Pea standing between your spread legs and there’s something electric between the two of you, but you’re shaking and he’s shaking and his fingers slip through yours like it’s natural, and at this point you think it must be. At this point you hold hands more often than you don’t. At this point you’ve realized you don’t want to let go. There’s blood on his hands and they stain yours as his fingers lace through them, anchoring the two of you together, and it’s enough.

You clean the blood off his hands with a wet cloth, fighting to keep your hands steady. You’re safe. _He’s_ safe. But Fangs was shot and half of the Serpents are still missing and it feels like everything in this whole damn town is crumbling around you.

Releasing one of his hands as you wipe the blood clean, his fingers find yours in the dim light of the bathroom, gripping you so tight it almost hurts, but he needs this and you need it too. “Why do you do that?” you ask before you can stop yourself, but you can’t bring yourself to regret it.

His eyes snap from your connected hands to your face, his brows furrowing. “Do what?” he asks, low and deep and rough, more fragile than you’ve ever heard him before.

Silently, you wipe more blood off his hands. He releases you, every so often, allowing you to shift his hands in your grip to wipe the blood from his palm, from under his nails. Neither of you can stay away for long, something about the skin on skin contact making your chest settle.

“Hold my hand,” is what you finally say.

Sweet Pea opens his mouth but doesn’t answer for a long time, just watches as you dab at a split in his knuckles that reopened sometime during the night. His hands are still trembling, but neither of you mention it. There’s a lot you don’t talk about. Finally, he exhales, a quivering little thing, and leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he murmurs, fingers tightening around yours.

And somehow that’s enough.

* * *

**+1.**

Things have changed since Riot Night.

It’s been nearly three weeks but it feels like several lifetimes apart. Fangs is alive. Jughead is alive. But you lost the Wyrm and you lost Sunnyside. And you think you lost a part of yourself that night too, while you and Sweet Pea were in that bathroom. And you know he lost pieces of himself too. Things changed. Maybe you got scared or maybe he did, or maybe it was both of you, but things changed.

You never realized how cold you were without him, how empty your hand feels without his fingers tangled up with yours, his rings cold against your skin. You’ve been reaching for him lately, without even noticing, hand searching for his, only he isn’t there.

He said he was afraid of losing you, but you think maybe you should’ve been the one who was scared. Sweet Pea has always been detached, brave and reckless and too proud to think he needs anyone until he’s already begun to lose them. And you? You’ve always just been too blind to see what’s right there until it’s gone.

But you and the rest of the Serpents build a new home by Sweetwater River, one made up of cheap tents and scavenged materials and a type of raw anger that makes the Serpents strong even though the Southside is gone. Only it doesn’t feel like home with Sweet Pea so close but still so far away.

He’s with Fangs and Jughead, the three of them smiling, big wide grins that make your heart squeeze in your chest. One of them was shot. One of them was beaten. And the third a broken boy barely put back together. You can still feel the blood on your skin and the ghost of his breath on your neck from that night, a whispered word of _I’vegotyouI’vegotyouI’vegotyou_ and your chest aches. Sweet Pea’s eyes meet yours over Fangs’ head and something in his expression changes. There’s fear there, and loss, and something you don’t want to put a name too.

Something in you snaps and comes back together, a tide washing in.

_I’vegotyouI’vegotyouI’vegotyou._

Jughead becomes Serpent King. They lost the Southside, but not their spirits, and Sweet Pea slides up beside you, arm pressing flush against yours and leaving a pleasant warmth rushing through you. You lean into him and it’s enough.

That night he hovers over you, breathing your name against your skin, mouth on your neck, your cheek, your chin, anywhere he can reach. Sweet Pea lets out a sound halfway between a gasp and a laugh against your throat, something soft and shaky—nervous—and you can’t help it when you keen, fingers quivering against his shoulders as his breath fans over your neck, warm against your skin. His hand curls around your bare hip and squeezes.

He doesn’t say it and neither do you, but your hand finds his for the first time in weeks, fingers knotting with his as he presses his weight against you, bare chest meeting yours. He whispers your name again, and it sends a chill through you, enough to make you shiver, but he only pulls you closer, until there’s no space left between you. His thumb bushes against your hip as you rock against him, holding you steady, and his hand squeezes around yours.

Your bones _hum_.

You whisper his name back to him and he twitches above you, shuddering and groaning low in his throat before sighing as his forehead drops onto your shoulder. His one arm slips around your back as he pulls you into a soft embrace, breathing heavily. He hovers over you, letting you wrap yourself around him, curling into his chest and burying yourself inside.

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted from tumblr. You can check out my other stuff there, still under Rivendell101!


End file.
